Page 16 of True North

People.

Hat... Wrong one.

Harry’s dad’s old buckboard truck sits by the grocery store. I run to the store and rush inside. The place isn’t busy. Only a few people. I rush down the first aisle. Nothing.

The next one.

Nothing.

The nex?—

I slam into a woman, her back to me as she reaches for a can on the top shelf.

“Shit! I am so sorry!” I try to steady her as she teeters on her feet, grabbing onto the cart by her side. She turns, a little dazed, and sets her gaze on me. The grin that grows on her face sends my heart racing. Not because she’s happy.

Because she’s Mrs. Rawlins.

Oh god.

Harry still drives his Ma to town?

I guess some things never change.

“Louisa! Heavens above. Look at you! It’s so good to see you, my girl.” She pulls me into a hug. I freeze for a moment, not knowing if things have changed. When she hugs me tighter, I realize they haven’t. I hug her back. A moment later, she releases me, holding me at arm’s length.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Evelyn told me you’re back in town. Are you staying for good this time?”

“It’s wonderful to see you, too, Mrs. Rawlins. I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

She tilts her head. “Well, I for one can say it hasn’t been the same around here without you.”

I chuckle. “Thanks, but I think Lewistown does just fine without me.”

“Who said I was talkin’ about the town?”

Oh?

Oh...

My face heats as I realize she means Harry. She smiles, it’s so kind and loving, and now I feel self-conscious in my waitressing uniform. My gaze hits the floor.

“Actually, I could use a hand with these here groceries. My Harry went to Darla’s to find himself something good.” She pushes the cart along the aisle.

He found something, at least. Most likely the scare of a lifetime in the form of the last person he ever wanted to see.

I follow, not knowing what else to do. Stopping at the herbs and spices, she pushes to her tiptoes, reaching for the thyme. One of my favorites. Her fingers brush past the small bottle. I don’t remember her being this small. Maybe she shrank a little with age. More likely I grew. The last time I saw her was ten years ago.

My mind wanders back to that night.

The devastation that wrecked her son’s face.

The guilt that’s eaten me since, for running off without explanation. It’s the one thought that never leaves me. I wish I could take it back. Have a do-over on that one moment. The answer would be the same—I was seventeen, for goodness’ sake.

I fold in behind Mrs. Rawlins and grab the glass bottle for her. She spins back and pats my cheek.

She does that a lot.

I chuckle. “What else do you need?”

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